Beginnings
by Ms. Writeable This
Summary: One-shot written for the fanfic 100 prompt "Beginnings". How I see the first meeting of The Joker and Harleen Quinzel set in the Nolan universe. Joker/Harley, rated for language and to be safe. Enjoy!


Hello everyone! Well, it's summer at last! That means, of course, that I have plenty of time to write and post new stories! =) So, to anyone who's been wondering whether or not I've abandoned my two Phantom Phics, get ready because I'll be posting chapters for both of them very soon! But that's a bit off topic. This summer, one of my best friends (who also happens to write FF) and I have decided to attempt the infamous Fanfiction 100. (If you don't know what it is, google it! It's fantasic!) She's tackling the prompts with the topic of her all-time favorite couple, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and she convinced me to take on the challenge of 100 prompt-inspired one-shots about _my_ favorite couple, The Joker and his Harley Quinn. So, here is the first story. The prompt was "Beginnings". (I won't always title the fics after the prompts...this one just seemed appropriate.)

Enjoy! Please R&R!**

* * *

**

**Beginnings**

Harleen walked swiftly down one of the white walled hallways that were the prominent features of the asylum in which she worked. But not too swiftly...she didn't want to seem too anxious. Then again, she didn't want to be late either. That would start the whole thing off with a bad precedent, she had to be the one in charge of this situation. He couldn't be waiting for her, she had to be there first and push him to comply with her questioning. Yes, she would be the model of professionalism and show everyone that she was more than a blonde bimbo; that she had worked damn hard to earn that PHD.

It was quite dark in the cell, even though it was broad daylight outside. Being situated in the basement there were no windows, and the doctors only allotted him a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It would swing every now and then as people bustled about on the floors above; rolling hospital beds, running to attend to emergencies, or hopping about in the throws of insanity. The darkness was supposed to soothe him. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Soothe the savage beast. He was like a mad dog...hadn't that been the analogy he'd used with The Batman? A mad dog chasing cars. He wouldn't stop because he was in here, locked up. He'd just find a way to make it even more fun.

Like this morning. Did they think he didn't know they'd be sending some shrink in about now? Some middle-aged scholarly type meant to intimidate him with calm reason, scare him with ideas. Fat chance. He wouldn't say a single useful word. Games, games, games...

She was somewhat disturbed by how dark it was in the maximum security area of the hospital. This couldn't be healthy, keeping a man holed up in the dark. The concept of incarceration would just never sit well with her. When she passed the panel of light switches, she flipped a few on. They buzzed and flickered to life in the low ceiling, instantly brightening what was really no more than a basement with some extra concrete walls and steel doors. She could see into the cell in front of her now as the light she had provided leaked through the bars in the door. With a quick glance it appeared to be empty, but of course it wasn't. There was a figure, seated in a chair against the far wall, well out of the light.

The guard who was with her and whom she hardly noticed, placed a key in the lock and let the door swing open.

"Well...there you go doctor." he said this nervously, fidgeting almost guiltily, and then he left.

She stepped over the threshold, the door creaking shut behind her like something out of a bad horror flick. And so she was alone. As her eyes began to adjust to the low light, the man in the chair became clearer and clearer. She could see his orange Arkham jumpsuit, his pale hands folded in his lap, his back slouching in the chair, long unkempt hair, and finally...that face. No makeup to cover the scars and blacken the eyes, it was a bit of a shock for her...he was man. The gnarled scars twisted up his face in flesh tone, looking now more painful than comical. He had shockingly blue eyes that were dead set on her face. She was thrown for a loop. Mentally, she was groping around for that professionalism she'd been enjoying.

He was...surprised, to say the least. The doctor that walked through his door was not aging or imposing. She..._she_ was blonde, young...attractive. What were they playing at? He leaned forward in his chair, letting the light fall on his face and allowing himself a better look at her. From what he could read, she wasn't scared, more anxious. He found himself interested, and he hated it.

She grabbed the only other chair in the room and pulled it directly under the light. She sat down, her thoughts oddly quiet. Across from her, the clown was still observing her features, measuring her up.

"Hello," she stated. It was an invitation, a challenge, a question, and a greeting all wrapped up at once.

"Hi," he drawled, letting the corners of his ruined mouth curl slowly into a grin.

So this was the sort of thing people commonly called the beginning of the end?


End file.
